The Mailman

Art Kit

My mother had stopped playing with the pastry dough and wiped her hands on her apron. She glided around the counter and sat next to me on the custom beige sofa.

"Do you remember when you were eight, how you got the flu on your first week of school?"

"Yes."

"Well, then I'm sure you also remember how devastated you were. You had been so thrilled to go to school and see your friends but when you came down with the flu, you were heartbroken."

"I remember but I don't see your point."

My mother gave me a reassuring smile before finishing her story.

"That same night, while you were telling grandma about your illness, she told you something. Do you remember what it was?"

"She told me that when one door closes another door opens."

"That's right dear."

I shifted in my spot a bit with a puzzled look on my face.

"While you were bedridden, your grandmother sent you a lovely paint palette. Although you had been sick, you found way to make light of the situation by making beautiful portraits."

My mother encircled her arms around me and laid her head on my shoulder.

"I think I know what you're trying to say mom. Thank you."

She lifted her head up and we both simultaneously repeated the words my grandmother engraved on my art kit.

"When one door closes another door opens, even if it's shut temporarily for something as silly as the flu."

We both giggled at our remembrance of grandmother's wise yet humorous words.